ode to the bush taxi

i've been meaning to write this ode for awhile now, in gratitude for my experience of and IN the gellah gellahs of the gambia. i'm thankful i learned to use these straightaway without relying on normal taxis. (using regular tourist taxis might be akin to living in london and only using the tube for transport, never figuring out the routes of the red doubledeckers). but i'm growing rather fond of the gellah gellah, and in actual fact, it's cheap and (mostly) reliable - if you're patient.

i was in a gellah gellah last week from makumbaya to lamin and counted no less than 30 people in a van made to hold twelve comfortably. i kid you not. there are no gaps in the rows of seats. where gaps should be, benches have been creatively crafted or oil cannisters used as makeshift seats - all in the name of a few more dalasi. if it is the stop of someone in the back corner, wedged between the Imam and a young mother with child, everyone must pile out so that he can crawl out of the van.

despite the fact that gellah gellahs do not run frequently (in fact, they run when they are full and when the drivers have finished their attaya under the shade of the baobab trees)- their system, when they do run, is clever. each van has a driver and an 'apprentice.' it is the drivers job to drive (and occasionally flip the cassette if he has one) and the apprentice's job to collect the fares from the passengers while the van is in motion. it is also his job - and it is always a HE, usually a teenage boy - to hange out the side window and shout the final destination of the vehicle to potential passengers standing on the side of the road. (imagine if they did that in the paris metro, wouldn't life be easier?) 'breeeekama, breeeeekama,' the young boy shouts as he points his two fingers to the left. this is another indication of the final destination for to point to the right would indicate another route altogether. he'll fill as many seats as he can so that even he - on a good ride - will not have a seat and will hover over the unlucky passengers closest to the door.

and the doors sometimes slide on the rails, as side doors of vans usually do - but other times, hinges and bolted locks fastened to keep the doors in place, so that the door awkwardly opens in a way toyota never intended - in these instances, there is usually a rope to connect the door to the van, lest it fall off completely while in motion. this happened to a friend of mine. they'll do whatever they need to do to keep the door on so that the van can run and the driver and apprentice can earn their living for the day.

gellah gellah's are an extension of the personality of the driver. the gellah gellah i take from makumbaya to brikama, for example, has a garish garland of fake orange and red flowers, with green and red christmas baubles hanging between the visors; a topless 'he-man' like action figurine wearing jeans and a bad mullet stuck to the dashboard; a mirror on a stand between his legs so the driver can see the passengers in the rear (though i think he has it pointed at himself most of the time - he is rather good looking and i think he knows it); a single faded windchime hangs from the rear view mirror twirling in the wind along with a small child's red shoe (who's is it? i don't know); and two large stickers on the back windows of Madonna blowing kisses in her 'desperately seeking susan' era circa 1983.

if you're lucky, the driver has a cassette player and good taste in music so the ride has a friendly beat in the background. the seats are ripped and torn, with foam splaying out, sometimes duct-taped, sometimes missing altogether. they certainly haven't been washed since they arrived in the gambia, around the same time as madonnna and her bandanas.

there generally isn't much politics in the seating, though the front seats are always coveted, and usually the first to be taken. if you've got to wait a long while in the taxi garage, the seats in the sun are usually the last to be taken, and passengers will get out of the van to let you pass to the sun before scooting into the sun themselves. and so long as they are not in the sun, window seats are usually nicer, for the purchasing power granted to those lucky enough to afford 'window shopping.'

and if you have 'luggage' with you - for a few dalasi more, the driver and apprentice will throw that on top of the van and cart that home for you too. so if, say, you've got a bag of rice, or a bucket of cooking oil, or even a live goat you just picked up at the livestock market, no problem. a gellah gellah can get that home. perhaps the equivalent of a yellow cab on 5th avenue after a big splurge.

when you're ready to get out, you simply hollar at the driver or apprentice - who bangs the side of the door with a coin to alert the driver - and you pile out. no need to wait for an official bus stop or taxi garage. so while it's not frequent, it IS convenient (assuming your destination isn't then a 4 km walk under the blazing sun).

so apart from having to wait - and even that time offers the opportunity for conversations, coconuts and catch up - the gellah gellah is by far one of the greatest things i've discovered in the gambia. and that concludes my ode.